


22 Minutes in Hell

by The_Audacity



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Audacity/pseuds/The_Audacity
Summary: Already stuck at a university party with a grumpy Uryuu thanks to his rowdy friends, now Ichigo is stuffed into a closet with him for a classic 7 Minutes in Heaven moment. Of course they get into a fierce argument as usual, but this time seems a little different.
Relationships: Ishida Uryuu & Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 2





	22 Minutes in Hell

A bottle smacks into the wall and shatters in a shower of brown shards and golden liquor. The crash is followed by a round of cheering as the brawl that launched it continues. Ichigo sidesteps a drunken pair of morons scrabbling at each other on the floor and makes his way back to his clique across the packed room. High-energy dance music blares from an impressive home stereo system loud enough to drown out anything below a shout, so he has to lean close to hear Chad’s low question.

“Are you all right? That bottle almost hit you.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he yells back with a shrug. “I ducked.”

“Did you get the goods?” Mizuiro asks beside his smiling girlfriend. “Or were they already out of booze?”

Ichigo nods to Mizuiro and Tatsuki, handing them each one of the beers he brought back for everyone. Keigo takes the other six pack from him and distributes the rest so Ichigo can open his own. Raising his fresh drink in a casual salute of thanks, Renji grins at Ichigo over Rukia’s head. Behind them, Ikkaku and Hisagi are too busy arm-wrestling across the coffee table to pay attention to the delivery. Rangiku, Inoue, and Yumichika loudly cheer them on from the sidelines with tipsy enthusiasm. In the next room, Kensei and Love square off at a billiards table while Shinji unsuccessfully hits on some dancing freshman girls.

Looking around at everyone assembled for the first time in a while has Ichigo feeling nostalgic. Ever since they all went off to university or got assigned new missions, they haven’t had nearly as much time to spend together as they would all prefer. Those from Soul Society are only here because they happen to be on mission in the real world at the moment. Many of their other friends went to other universities or got jobs too far away to make the trip for this party. The rest of the masses filling the three-story house are fellow students; some of them Ichigo knows but most he’s never seen before. No one seems to care they’ve been infiltrated by a gaggle of Shinigami and a small troupe of Vaizard, though.

“I don’t know why I bothered bringing you guys more alcohol,” Ichigo teases, watching Keigo gulp at his like a legendary Elixir of Immortality. “You’re all drunk enough as it is, aren’t you? Not to mention you jerks dragged me here in the first place. I have a quiz tomorrow, you know.”

“But you love to see us acting dumber than you for a change.” Rukia sticks her tongue out at him and he refuses to mirror the childish gesture.

“Or because we asked you so nicely,” chimes Rangiku, walking over to snag a drink. Striking a subtle pose that accentuates her chest, she attempts a cute pout and adds, “And we’re so grateful, Ichigo!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, immune to her overt sexuality by now. “You’re welcome.”

“You saying you’d rather be home studying than here with us, Ichigo!?” cries Keigo with much more volume than necessary. “What kind of friend are you?”

“The kind who wants to pass my classes!”

“You’ll do fine,” Renji dismisses with a hand gesture. “You always do.”

“That’s ‘cause I usually get to study,” Ichigo grumbles despite the compliment.

“Maybe the real problem is you’re bored,” suggests Mizuiro. “Let’s play one of those party games. Like truth or dare or something…”

“Booo,” Keigo immediately vetoes. “Only kids play that anymore, Mizuiro. We should play spin the bottle!”

Sighing, the shorter man shrugs, “Whatever you say, Asano-san.”

“How is that any less juvenile?” Ichigo can’t help wondering aloud. “Pecking people on the cheek isn’t exactly risqué if you’re twenty.”

“I’m glad you asked, Ichigo, my one-and-only true best friend.” Giving Mizuiro the evil eye for being cold to him again, Keigo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large pair of colorful ten-sided dice to hold up for everyone to see. He hands one to Ichigo to examine as he explains. “I dug these out earlier today, as soon as I heard the words ‘house party’. One die is to specify a body part and the other is an action. So you spin the bottle to pick your partner and then roll the dice to decide the action. If you refuse to do anything, the penalty is to take a shot or chug your drink.”

Squinting suspiciously at the little piece of plastic, Ichigo makes out tiny text commands such as _make out_ , _slap_ , _suck_ , and _striptease_. He hands it back to a smirking Keigo with incredulous eyebrows. Since when did his friend become this kind of person? Or maybe he was like this all along. They’ve all come a long way in terms of eradicating their collective naiveté, but this is a bit more than Ichigo signed up for. He’s not sure he’s prepared to _bite_ someone’s _armpit_ just because a diamond-shaped toy tells him to. Ichigo is about to open his mouth and say so when Tatsuki steps up with a fierce grin.

“I’m up for the challenge.”

“Sounds like fun!” agrees Rangiku.

“We’ll need to clear a space on the floor. I’ll chase the chess team out of the den,” Renji magnanimously offers before walking off to do just that.

“I’ll get more alcohol,” Rukia whoops and tugs Inoue towards the kitchen.

“Wait, wait, _wait_!” shouts Ichigo over their mounting excitement. “Are you all completely _nuts_? This kind of game is—”

“Ah, what’s wrong, kid?” Hisagi rises triumphant from the wrestling match to nag him. “You’ve got the balls to take out Aizen but you’re afraid of a little intimacy?”

“It’s not like you haven’t known everyone here practically forever. What’s wrong with some harmless flirting?” Ikkaku joins in. “Come on, Yumichika, let’s recruit some hotties.”

“You and I have very different aesthetic tastes, Ikkaku. I’ll recruit on my own, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” To Ichigo, he winks, “See ya later, _Chicken_.”

“I’m not a chicken, you bastard!”

“Hey, is that Ishida?”

Interrupting what was surely about to become a mighty rant from an offended Shinigami Representative, Mizuiro distracts him by pointing across the room to where a cluster of students are dancing. Keigo narrows his eyes and huffs. He still hasn’t forgiven Ishida for the time they were supposed to take turns waiting in line for a new video game to release and Ishida left on his turn to hold their place in line. It didn’t seem to matter to Keigo that he actually left to fight a rampaging Hollow.

“Who cares? You know that nerd-face shows up to everything just because he likes to make an appearance anywhere cool stuff is happening. Let’s go help set up the game, Mizuiro. You playing, Ichigo?”

“Uh, maybe.”

He deliberately answers as vaguely as possible while wondering why Ishida is talking to that pretty young woman. Keigo shrugs and drops the topic to walk off, Mizuiro and his girlfriend trailing after him. Curious, Ichigo pushes through the crowd until he gets within hearing range of the mysterious couple. There’s no way _that_ Ishida is chatting up a girl! Even years later the man hardly deigns to spare time for the friends he already has, much less endeavor to make new ones. Ichigo always assumed Ishida is too ‘dignified’ for romance or some shit.

“It’s not that I’m uninterested in _you_ , Kyoko-san,” Ishida is calmly explaining with a sympathetic expression. “You’re a very attractive woman. It’s just that I…well, I’m not exactly…”

“You’re gay?” she blurts when she sees him struggling.

Slapping a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing aloud, Ichigo stops a few feet behind Ishida to get himself under control. Oh, this is good. _So good_ because Ichigo will have ammunition to tease Ishida for months after this. Remember that time the girl you were hitting on thought you were gay, Ishida? Talk about having zero skills. Too hilarious!

“Yes, I am.”

All of that humor sloshes right out of Ichigo and onto the floor in shock.

“Oh, I see,” this Kyoko girl nods with a thick air of disappointment. She rallies with a warm smile. “That’s cool. You still want to dance, though? I bet you’re really good at it.”

“He said you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Ichigo strides forward to snap at her, intending to help with Ishida’s obvious attempt to get rid of her. “Beat it.”

Both of them turn insulted frowns on him and the girl sashays off with a disgruntled huff. Ishida levels Haughty Quincy Glare version six-point-eight at him as he opens his mouth to bitch.

“What the hell is your problem, Kurosaki? Were you taught to be unnecessarily rude to people or does it just come naturally?”

“I don’t know but it seems to have something to do with proximity to you. I see your face and then I want to punch something.”

If they used to verbally spar with each other in high school, they’ve practically elevated to battles now. Whenever they’re in the same room for more than five minutes they end up tearing into each other for some reason or another. It doesn’t seem to have much effect on the casual friendship they’ve maintained all this time, though. If anything, it kind of keeps them sharper-witted and fired-up. Having a rival will do that, Ichigo guesses.

“In that case, why are you here looking at my face instead of spending time with your precious Shinigami posse?”

“They’re playing some weird sex-game in the den,” Ichigo shrugs, relishing the widened eyes Ishida flashes him. Any chance he gets to throw him off his high horse is a bonus. “Speaking of sex, since when are you telling girls that you’re gay to avoid it?”

“Since they’ve started asking me out. What kind of game—”

“But you’re not really…Are you?” Ishida answers with a flat stare and a pronounced frown. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked. And it doesn’t matter. Does it?”

“Well, no, I guess not. But—”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those unenlightened, homophobic muscle-heads who hates homosexuals! Just when I thought my opinion of you couldn’t sink any lower.”

“Fuck no! Are you kidding me?” Ichigo snaps with an angry shove to Ishida’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, Ishida? You know me better than that. I don’t give a shit what you’re into; I’m just surprised since you used to be in love with Inoue. Didn’t you two date for a while?”

“No, we did not. And I wasn’t in love with her.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, man.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your friends, now that you’ve had a chance to harass me into a poor mood?”

As Ichigo takes a breath to respond to that, Renji walks up to them and greets Ishida with a nod, which he cordially returns.

“We’re ready to get started, Ichigo. Last chance to get in. You should come, too, Ishida.”

Given what little Ishida has been told about what ‘getting in’ may entail, he eyes Renji with nothing short of wild perplexity. He may as well have just invited Ishida to an orgy. Ichigo would laugh if he wasn’t too busy trying to think of something else he has to do so he can get out of playing.

“I-I appreciate the invitation, Abarai, but I’m not sure you would want me to play.”

“Why not?”

“Ishida’s gay. Apparently it wasn’t worth mentioning!”

“Really?” Renji blinks at them before breaking into a grin. “Interesting! Now you _have_ to join in. Let’s go.”

Grabbing both of them by the back of the neck like misbehaving cubs, Renji drags them down the hall to the den, still loud behind a closed door due to a separate stereo hookup inside the room. Everyone is drinking copiously, chatting excitedly, and settling cozily on the floor in a wide circle with a giant vodka bottle waiting ominously in the center. Keigo’s inscribed beads of doom are being passed around and giggled over like the best show-and-tell of the night. Renji pushes his captives to a kneel on the carpet right beside each other and walks off to collapse between Rukia and Love.

“How nice of you to join us, boys,” croons Rangiku next to Ishida. She leans close enough to graze his arm with her breasts to tell him, “I always figured you for the naughty type, Quincy.”

“It’s ‘Ishida Uryuu’,” he corrects and leans away from the touch. She pouts while Ichigo sniggers at the literal brush-off. “I didn’t exactly have much choice.”

Ichigo glances up in time to see Renji whispering something to Hisagi and then pointing to Ishida. Nodding in comprehension, Hisagi looks right at Ishida and leers.

Noticing this exchange, Ishida leans in to nervously mutter to Ichigo, “You don’t think he just told him that I’m…?”

“Oh, definitely. I’d watch out for Hisagi tonight if I were you.”

Ishida swallows hard and Ichigo cracks a smirk at his discomfort. That’s all the time they have to goof around, though, since Keigo chooses that moment to stand and re-explain the rules to everyone now that they’re all gathered and paying attention. After confirming that everyone understands, Keigo starts the very first spin and lands on Tatsuki. Immediately, a playful tension begins to fill the room as everyone waits for him to roll the dice.

“Lick,” he reads off and glances at her to gauge her reaction. “Foot.”

A round of giggles erupts and Keigo groans at his poor luck. Tatsuki pulls off her shoe and offers her wiggling toes with a cruel laugh. How many times has she kicked him with that very foot and now he has to lick it? Even Ichigo can’t help enjoying the humor of the situation this time. Especially when Keigo makes a ridiculous face with his tongue sticking out and Tatsuki squeals at the odd sensation.

Okay, maybe this won’t be awful after all.

Or so he thinks until he watches Shinji lecherously hugging Inoue, Renji making out with Rukia, and Love slapping Rangiku’s ass. Then he nearly dies laughing as Ishida downs his entire drink rather than suck Ikkaku’s neck. Yoruichi abruptly bursts into the room at one point and takes a turn, happily giving a striptease to a beaming Kensei—as well as everyone else by proxy—and instructing him to call her later before striding back out.

People keep drinking, chuckling, and spinning until every single one of them has had at least one turn. So many insane things done that would normally be taboo. Ichigo gets the feeling that most of them will be forgotten by tomorrow anyway. He has slipped into a giddy, relaxed state induced by liquor and laughter. Even Ishida has a little smile twisting the corners of his mouth.

Watching Ishida reach out to spin the vodka bottle on his turn, Ichigo’s breath stops in his throat: the cap’s point is indisputably towards him. Every person in the room falls silent and still so that only the throbbing beat of electronica is heard. Their eyes alertly bounce between Ichigo and Ishida as if they’re all expecting a spontaneous explosion, a volatile chemical reaction due to these two opposing forces colliding to form an unstable mixture. Why does he get the feeling they were waiting for this?

The faint click of jostling dice draws their attention to the floor where they land in a fateful configuration. Ichigo is too anxious to sit forward and read their ominous conclusion. Braver, or perhaps more curious, Ishida does what Ichigo cannot. Then he goes rigid.

“What is it?” Ichigo asks him after a moment. Ishida’s breath leaves him in a slow, careful exhale but he doesn’t answer. “What does it say?”

“It says ‘crotch’,” Rangiku loudly answers with evident excitement, peering around Ishida to look at him. “Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

“ _What_!?” hisses Ichigo, glancing at Ishida, who sinks lifelessly back on his heels like he’s just been told he has cancer. “What does that even mean? All the other commands were something dumb like ‘kiss’ or ‘touch’. How do you ‘seven minutes in heaven’ with a ‘crotch’?”

“It’s the Wild Card option,” Keigo squeaks between high-pitched giggles. “Like a special move or a Joker card.”

“That still doesn’t explain—”

“Um, Ichigo…” Chad murmurs to get his attention. That usually means he’s saying something really stupid without realizing it. Ichigo shuffles over to listen to the man’s private whisper. “It means you have to, uh…you and Ishida have to go into a closet and, uh…”

“What?” he impatiently demands. “We have to what?”

“You have to get each other off,” Hisagi growls out in obvious envy of Ichigo’s opportunity. “But if you want to back out, Kurosaki, I’ll take your place.”

Ishida twitches at that but seems too shell-shocked to speak. Ichigo doesn’t get why they’re all so antsy over it. There’s no way he’s getting locked in a closet with Ishida. That’s why penalties exist in games like this. Wordlessly, he reaches for his drink to down it; Ishida immediately releases a relieved sigh and mimics him. They’re home free.

But then Renji ruins everything.

“Waaaait a second, you two,” he pushes to his wobbly feet to stalk over and snatch their bottles away before they can finish chugging. “Didn’t you hear Asano say it’s a ‘Wild Card’. That means you don’t get to skip it.”

“No one said anything like that,” Ichigo argues, standing to face him better. He uses Ishida’s shoulder as a prop when he almost tips over. “Stop making up rules, Renji. You’re not the boss of Spin the Bottle!”

“Uh, actually, Ichigo—”

“You shut up, too, Keigo!”

“Be a man, Ichigo!” bellows Ikkaku.

“Cowardice is so ugly,” sneers Yumichika.

“What’s wrong with a little guy-on-guy?” Rangiku wonders aloud. “And Uryuu’s such a cute kid, too.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Hisagi jumps up to antagonize him next. “I already said I’ll take your spot.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Says who, Kurosaki?”

“BOYS!” Despite her tiny frame, Rukia can blare like a bullhorn when she wants to. All of them turn in time to see her shoving her way to the center of a semi-circle surrounding him. “This is silly. Ichigo, the only way they’re going to be satisfied is if you go into the closet with Ishida.”

“But—”

“You don’t actually have to do anything. You realize that, don’t you?” Rukia whispers to him as she pulls a pliant Ishida upright and begins leading them both towards the narrow door on the other side of the room, right next to the shaking stereo. “Just stay in there for seven minutes like good boys and we can all go back to having a great night. Okay?”

“But—”

“And hand over your phones—no cheating by ignoring each other and reading Facebook!” Renji commands and scrabbles around in their pockets to snatch them away. Some life returns to Ishida then, as he tries to rescue his phone before it gets swiped for good.

“Abarai, wait!”

Renji and Rukia stuff them inside and slam the door shut.

As soon as the door closes, Ichigo realizes that it is much quieter in here if only because the stereo is pointed away from their tiny room. He can hear Ishida’s soft breathing echoing his own. He can even hear a faint click of the handle locking in place, followed by footsteps leading away. Yelling to be let out probably isn’t going to work even if they would listen. It’s also pitch-black with absolutely no light source except a sliver just under the door dimly highlighting the tips of their shoes.

Clothes on hangers and boxes stacked from the floor bracket them into a space so small they can’t keep from touching no matter how they shift around each other. He feels Ishida trying to pull his limbs in closer to his own body and find a spot to himself but it’s no good: no matter which way they squirm and turn some part of them is still in contact. The air is close and Ichigo starts to sweat a little within seconds.

“Shit.”

“It’s only seven minutes, Kurosaki, try not to spontaneously combust.”

“Speak for yourself, Ishida, I’m already burning up. Move your arm so I can take off my sweatshirt.”

“Just leave it on, don’t start stripping right next to me, idiot!”

“Shut up and get your elbow out of my ribcage, damn it!”

Frustrated and buzzed, Ichigo pulls too hard at his sweater and feels his wrist knock into something hard. A soft clattering at their feet has Ishida cursing while Ichigo drops the fabric on top of a random box. Although he feels marginally better with it off, Ishida is knocking him into the curtain rod before he can appreciate it. He starts to ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing but then Ishida’s ass is bumping against his jeans zipper and Ichigo freezes.

“Don’t just stand there like a useless piece of storage, Kurosaki,” he says from the vicinity of Ichigo’s knees. “Help me find the glasses you just knocked off my face.”

“Maybe I would if you’d stop molesting me, Ishida. Get your ass away from my dick unless you want to do this ‘heaven’ bullshit after all.”

Ishida snaps upright so fast he blows a breeze from the thick fan of his hair. His breathing is loud and fast in the small space.

“W-well what do you expect me to do? It’s—it’s not like I’m trying t-to do that sort of…with _you_.” Sucking a slow inhale to collect himself and stop stuttering, Ishida mutters darkly, “‘Seven minutes in heaven’? More like an eternity in _hell_. Get out of my way, I’m going to kick the door down.”

“Whoa, calm down! Do you even know whose house this is?” Ichigo tries to placate before things get out of hand. He’s not used to Ishida getting this upset because of him. Usually they can bicker all day long and Ishida holds his own every time. “Haven’t we caused enough structural damage in our lifetimes already? I don’t need another lecture from Ukitake-san about destroying human property.”

“I don’t care! I can’t bear another minute in here!” By the body parts brushing him and the new origin of Ishida’s voice, Ichigo assumes he turns away from the door to yell at him properly. “This is exactly why I can’t stand you, Kurosaki. Why did you let Abarai and Hisagi-san goad you into agreeing to this? Now I have to shower as soon as I get home to get your scent off me. Even worse, there’s nothing I can do about your reiatsu leaking out all over the place.”

“You let them bully you into this, too! Fuck, why do you have to be such a tight ass? You’re always like this,” he snarks in return, fed up with it himself. That’s why he says something next that he would not normally have the gall to say. “Man, I bet all you need to get rid of that stupid, egotistical attitude of yours is for someone to put you in your place. You should just get laid already, Ishida. Let someone fuck that arrogance right out of you."

Ichigo is expecting more shouting, maybe some kind of attack. Even stunned silence would be understandable. What he is not expecting is a throaty moan followed by the swift clap of what must be Ishida’s hand over his own mouth to negate the sound. It’s too late: he definitely heard it. And in a rare flash of insight, the pieces fit snugly together in Ichigo’s mind. He listens to the frantic pull of Ishida’s lungs, feels the heat radiating from him in persistent waves, and thinks about how quiet he had been while Ichigo was kicking up a fuss about having to do this in the first place. He thinks of the not-quite secret Ishida let slip about himself an hour ago in the living room. Suddenly all their petty arguments take on an entirely new meaning.

Still as petrified deer, they merely breathe into the oh-so-small space between them. The moment draws out and Ichigo can tell Ishida is waiting. There is a decision to be made here. Ichigo makes it.

“Ishida…Did you just _moan_ because of what I said?”

“N-no! Of course not. Why would I?”

“I think you did,” Ichigo lowers his voice to tease, certain now. “I think you liked hearing me talk about you getting some damn sense fucked into you, Ishida.”

“No, Kurosaki, you’ve got it wrong.”

“You just need someone to push you down.”

“Stop it.”

“Rip off all your clothes.”

“H-have you lost your mind? I said stop!”

“And tongue-fuck your tight ass until you come all over yourself.”

“ _Kurosaki_!” he groans, panting outright. Ishida’s wavering voice is doing weird things to Ichigo’s stomach. Good things. “You can’t—Why are you saying this!?”

“Because you like hearing it. You like dirty talk, don’t you? And you like it when _I’m_ talking dirty to you.” A frisson of lust zings through Ichigo when nothing is denied in the pause he creates for Ishida to correct him, just in case. “I’m learning all sorts of fun things about you tonight. If it turns you on that much, I’ll keep going.”

“ _Don’t_.”

Feeling Ishida shift towards the door in flight, Ichigo steps in front of it, crowding him against the opposite wall. He presses his palms to it on either side of Ishida’s shoulders and smirks when he feels how close they are by the quick tide of air brushing past his neck. Ishida starts to tell him to move but Ichigo interrupts him again.

“You’re used to being in control, aren’t you? Telling others what to do because you’re smarter and wiser and you know best. But what happens when they won’t listen? What happens when I pin you against the wall and tell you I’m gonna push my hand under your shirt and rub your nipples ‘til they’re nice and hard?”

It takes a lot for Ishida to work up to basic speech, “I’ll…”

“What’re you gonna do when I snap your pants open and wrap my fingers around your cock?”

“I’m…going to…”

“If I work you up to a frenzy and let go right before you lose it, and force my tongue into your mouth for you to suck and moan against? Would you reach down to finish yourself off right in front of me? Or would you beg me to fuck you?”

“ _Nnh_!” A sharp gasp precedes a tortured groan. The faint rustle of his clothes gives away his quivering and Ichigo hasn’t even touched him yet. He bites his lip against a bold jolt of pleasure at the thought. “I would…I will never beg you, Kurosaki.”

“Yeah? That sounds like a challenge, Ishida. I haven’t even begun to tell you all the filthy things I’ll do to you.” He bets there’s a damp spot spreading across the front of Ishida’s jeans. It takes all he has not to reach down and check. “I’ll kiss your lips red and swollen and wet. Then drop to my knees and lap at the slit of your dick. Press a thumb under the head and watch you leak onto my hand while you’re whimpering for me.”

“You bastard,” he hisses.

Ichigo hears his head thump against the wall and his fingernails scratch at it. He leans even closer, his messy fringe brushing Ishida’s cheek as he brings his mouth right beside an ear and murmurs into it. There’s no way the warmth of his words isn’t sending shivers across Ishida’s skin.

“I’ll grab your hips and flip you around, ass sticking out and face pressed to the plaster. Lick at your hole until you let me inside. My fingers opening you wider so I can push this hard-on your desperate moans caused right between your cheeks.”

“ _Mmmh_ ,” he whines, probably against his will.

“I’ll make you see stars, Ishida. Hit your button so hard your knees will collapse. And I’ll turn you back around, pick you up and fuck you so hard all you can do is scream while you cling to me. Want me to do that to you, Ishida? Want me to make your balls tighten and your brain go blank? All you have to do is say one little word.”

“ _Fuck you_ , Kurosaki,” he snaps even though he fails to stop another deep moan from escaping.

Irritated at Ishida’s limitless tenacity, Ichigo grabs a fistful of his hair and growls out his coup de grâce, “You’re a _dirty_ _slut_ , Ishida, and I’m gonna fuck you like one.”

Something like a sob gets swallowed as Ichigo fulfills one of his promises in a rough kiss. He dominates Ishida’s tongue and shoves their hips together. The crash ignites a blistering inferno that instantly hastens their movements. Ishida grips at either side of his shirt near his waist to pull him closer and stops filtering all the noises that come tumbling from heaving lungs. Ichigo rolls against him with exaggerated motions and eventually breaks the kiss to bite at Ishida’s arching neck.

“Kurosaki,” he moans with increasing urgency, “ _Kurosaki_.”

Fingers scrabbling at the front of Ichigo’s pants, Ishida gets them undone and reaches to pull out his erection. They both moan at the heavy, scorching feel of it in his slim hand. He kisses Ichigo as he starts stroking it, and the thought that Ishida just one-upped him at his own game flits through his mind. So he pushes Ishida away in order to turn him towards the wall, yank down his pants and underwear, and sidle up right behind him to rub his cock against that bare, perky ass. Both hands braced in front of him, Ishida sets his forehead to the cool surface and bites his lip around shaky moans. He’s close.

Ichigo steadies his hips with one hand and takes Ishida tightly in the other. He nibbles up and down the lines of shoulder and throat as he pumps Ishida to the pace of his bucking hips. Ishida scratches shallow arches out of the plaster in mindless pleasure, continuing to pant out Ichigo’s name between heady moans. Inspired by his fervor, Ichigo somehow finds the extra breath to tease just a little more.

“You think this feels good, Ishida, wait till we get back to my place. I’ll keep you up all night, give you orgasm after orgasm until you couldn’t move if a herd of Menos were after us.” The strained litany of _ah, ah, ah_ tells him all he needs to know about what Ishida thinks of this prospect. “I’ll lock you in my apartment and do every filthy thing I can think up until we’re both too sore to move. Do you want that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he turns his head to loudly proclaim. Ishida moves his own hand down to increase the pace of Ichigo’s as he thrusts back against him. “Yes, Kurosaki!”

“Yeah? I knew it. Knew you wanted it bad, Ishida.” He doesn’t have the presence of mind to sound as smug about it as he intends. Ishida is making him feel so good right now that he even blurts a stray thought flitting through his mind. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll even let you fuck me, too.”

That seems to be the final straw for Ishida. His entire body tightens like that damn bow he’s always bragging about and he throws his head back to shout. Too late, Ichigo lifts a hand to cover his mouth, lest they be caught. Ishida sucks two of his well-placed fingers between his lips and purrs around them like a fucking _sated cat_. Something about the gesture triggers Ichigo so hard he only has time for one more thrust before he’s coming across Ishida’s lower back.

Strange thing is he doesn’t seem to mind the mess. Ishida is still lapping at his fingertips and undulating his body against Ichigo in slow, rhythmic waves. He twists in Ichigo’s grip, dislodging the loose hold on his hips, to press a smoldering kiss against his gasping mouth. Now that their frenzied energy has been depleted, Ichigo realizes he’s actually a fantastic kisser. So good that it only takes about sixty seconds for him to start getting excited all over again. As if sensing this, Ishida pulls away from him before it’s too late.

“Give me your sweater, Kurosaki.”

“Uh?”

“The one you just had to rip off or you’d die, remember? Hand it over.”

“Oh. Okay.”

For lack of higher brain functions, Ichigo does as he’s told, listening to Ishida rustle around with it. Ichigo pulls up his pants and tries not to think about how much he wants to carry out every last idea he teased Ishida with _right fucking now_ , locked closet or no. Then he realizes there’s a very good chance everyone heard Ishida yelling over the music. He waits until Ishida stops moving as much—presumably cleaning up and fixing his clothes—before voicing a tricky concept.

“Are you gonna be pissed if they find out we actually did the stupid dare?”

“You mean, will I be upset if our friends know we had sex?”

“Yeah…”

A thoughtful pause precedes his answer. Ichigo fills it with battling a subtle anxiety that he doesn’t understand. Why should he care if Ishida is upset about it? Ichigo may have pushed him into this but it’s not like Ishida couldn’t push right back and escape. He chose to stay. So, why does Ichigo feel sort of guilty?

“Not if you keep your promises.”

“My pro—Ishida, are you saying—”

Grabbing him aggressively by the collar of his shirt, Ishida jerks him close and murmurs in a sultry tone, “I’m saying I want you to take me home and fuck me ‘until I couldn’t move if a herd of Menos were after us’.”

He nips Ichigo’s bottom lip for emphasis, making him groan, “Oh, hell yes!”

Bursting through the door with total disregard for private property, Ichigo pulls the man after him by the long sleeve of his wrinkled shirt. It’s only once the painfully-bright shine of fluorescent light makes them hesitate that he thinks about how embarrassing this is going to be. Sure enough, a room full of surprised faces swivels to spotlight their shame.

Except Ichigo instantly decides that he isn’t ashamed at all because he gets to go have lots of kinky sex with one of his best friends tonight. And maybe if he’s lucky, Ishida will want to keep fucking him after that, too.

“We were just about to check on you guys,” Inoue breaks the stunned silence to cheerfully announce. “You’ve been in there for twenty-two minutes!”

“Uh…” Ichigo fails to respond intelligibly. “The lock…”

“Oh, it doesn’t actually have a lock! Kuchiki-san just made it sound like there was one. You’re both kind of sweaty. Was it really hot in that closet?” she continues in the bubbly, oblivious way only she manages. “Are you guys okay? Maybe we shouldn’t lock anyone else in there.”

“We’re fine, Orihime-chan,” Ishida assures her, adjusting the glasses he apparently retrieved from the floor.

“Ah-ha! You two did date!” accuses Ichigo, twisting around to point at him. “Why else would you use her given name?”

“Because she asked me to.”

“Liar!”

“It’s true, Kurosaki-kun. I asked to use given names because we’ve known each other for so long.”

“Then how come you never use _my_ given name, damn it!?”

“You never asked me to.” Tugging his sleeve from Ichigo’s grip, he folds his arms and gives him Haughty Quincy Glare version four-point-three. “And up until twenty-two minutes ago we weren’t screwing, so…”

By this point, every head in the room is attentively bouncing between the three of them as they follow this riveting dialogue. As soon as Ishida says the word ‘screwing’, chaos erupts in a cascade of gasps and disbelieving exclamations. Ichigo is too shocked at the brazen admission to pay any attention to their drunken cacophony, though. At least until the din dies down enough for one voice to rise above the rest.

“Does this mean I don’t have a shot?” Hisagi asks Ishida.

“Sorry,” he tersely replies.

“Back off, Hisagi,” Ichigo adds for the hell of it. “He’s mine.”

The Shinigami sighs and rolls his eyes in mild annoyance but drops the issue. That’s when Ichigo notices the twin grins worn by Rukia and Renji. Thinking of their part in this series of events, he narrows his eyes in realization. Those scheming punks!

“Come on, Ichigo. Your bed isn’t going to warm itself.” If the easy flow of his name from Ishida’s mouth isn’t startling enough, the fact that he blithely broadcasts their naughty plans would do it. Seeing the look on Ichigo’s face, he adds, “What? Changed your mind? In that case, Hisagi-san, I might be avail—”

A rough growl cuts Ishida off and Ichigo spins around to drag him into a fierce, bruising kiss. He only eases up once Ishida is clutching at him and panting around it. Satisfied with his work, Ichigo faces their collective friends and shows them a smug smirk. He takes Ishida by the wrist and leads him out of the room, leaving the flurry of scandalized snickers behind them. They don’t make it far before Renji comes jogging after them.

“Wait up, you guys! You forgot your phones.” Wordlessly, they accept the offered items and nod in thanks. Renji can’t stop beaming at them like a proud father. It’s creepy. “Don’t have too much fun, yeah? Be safe and all that.”

“Do you even know what that means, man?” Ichigo cajoles.

“Do they have condoms in Soul Society?”

“It’s not like he’d know,” he answers Ishida as Renji gapes. “There’s no way he’s getting into Rukia’s pants anytime soon. Byakuya’d kill ‘em both before he’d let that happen. Right, Renji?”

“At least not until they’re married,” Ishida amiably agrees. “I wonder what the ceremony is like there.”

“Just shut the hell up, you two!” Flaring as red as his hair, Renji stomps away muttering, “Stupid, ungrateful brats. See if I help them out again.”

They leave the fateful house party and head to Ichigo’s place, laughing all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt filled for kimmy cakes! Recommended theme song is “Ghosts n Stuff” by Deadmau5 ft. Rob Swire (because Rob Swire’s voice is liquid chocolate).


End file.
